


we're burning down the highway skyline

by aceofdiamonds



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gansey will run a hand over Ronan's back, resting at the base of his neck, or he'll reach over and touch Ronan's knee when he's driving, like he needs the reassurance too that this isn't a figment of Ronan's imagination, something dreamt up on a whim. Ronan catches himself smiling when Gansey does that thing where he says something without thinking it through and comes across as just another teenage boy, horrified at his mistake, and, well, that smile is enough of a giveaway for Ronan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're burning down the highway skyline

**Author's Note:**

> i know this isn't the pairing everyone is focused on and i honestly don't know if i even ship it that much, i just like the thought of them knowing each other so well and kissing like it's nothing and yet everything. i read these books the other day, opened up word, and this is what came out. can we say, just for this fic, that the true love gansey/blue part doesn't exist even if that is the initial whole premise of the book. i don't own these characters or these books and this is why.

They make the progression so easily that the million dollar question is why didn’t they do this so much sooner. Neither of them know the answer, they just duck back under the covers, their breaths hot and shallow in the spaces between them, and kiss until they forget what they were asking.

Kavinksy makes his jokes but who's the one laughing when Gansey is hovering above Ronan, both of them stretched out on Ronan's bed in the room where no one's allowed, pressing kisses into Ronan's skin and pulling smiles and gasps from Ronan using his lips and hands. Who's the one laughing when Ronan pushes up Gansey's shirt, his fingers skating over the warm muscled skin and dipping into the waistband of Gansey's shorts. Who's the one laughing when Gansey's nose brushes along Ronan's chin, his head moving lower and lower as he smudges kisses onto Ronan's skin. 

(Hint: it starts with an R and ends with an onan. He’s the one laughing. It’s nice, he hasn’t done it much since that morning beside his dad’s car, the blood dripping onto the gravel, but Gansey fixes everything, even when doesn’t mean to.) 

See, Kavinsky makes all these jokes (Here's Mommy and Daddy coming. Who tops, really? Woah, the boyfriends had a little fight?) but Ronan's living the punchline. He has Gansey licking into his mouth, his tongue eager and confident and his hands going exactly where they know on Ronan's body -- the small of his back, his hips, the base of his neck --, an element of politeness still somehow clinging on at the edges. Ronan is never quite so cautious. He likes marking Gansey up, biting and sucking at his neck and down his chest, leaving bruises the shape of his mouth that Gansey has to cover up with polo necks and turned up collars. Sometimes, when he's stressed and he thinks no one is watching, Gansey slips his hand under his collar and presses at a purpling bruise, a smile pulling at his lips before it's gone again and Mr Perfect and Proper is back in place. Ronan always notices, though, and the next time he makes his marks that little bit higher. 

(The best thing about all of this is this: it's not a dream. This is something that happened right in the middle of the day when Ronan was wide awake. They had been talking, laughing, Glendower had been the topic of course, and then, easy as riding a bike, they had both leaned in all at once, lips had brushed once twice three times, and then Glendower had shifted to the back of their minds for an hour as they explored this new venture, the unexpected but welcome turn in the road. So it's not something Ronan had yearned for, not something he had had to invent in his mind and pull into reality. It had always been there, real and true, they only had to reach out and take it.)

Ronan had doubted it at first. A hint of fear creeping in that maybe Gansey wasn't really into this at all, that it was all a fluke, an experiment, but then the first time Gansey had gotten him off, the time he had undressed them both so quickly Ronan hadn't had time to think, pushing Ronan back onto the bed and kissing the dip of Ronan’s stomach. His fingers had been warm around his dick, jerking him slowly somehow knowing that if he turns his wrist just slightly this way Ronan will whine at the back of his throat and scrabble to grab at his waist. The first time this had happened, when he had pulled Ronan over the edge with breathy _come on, Ronan_ s and _you look so good_ , he had smiled, hazy through the aftermath, and the smile had been full of something, a gentle tentative sort of something that pushed away the voice second guessing everything at the back of Ronan's head. 

(The first time they kiss, that afternoon in Monmouth Manufacturing, Gansey pulls back and looks into Ronan’s eyes, his gaze asking before his mouth does, “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you not?” Ronan’s hand is gripping the hem of Gansey’s shirt. His mouth is tingling.

“Course I am,” Gansey says, flashing a lopsided smile before leaning in and joining their mouths again. "Just making sure." His shirt ends up on the floor thirty seconds later.)

They don't flaunt it, whatever this is, but they don't hide it either. Gansey will run a hand over Ronan's back, resting at the base of his neck, or he'll reach over and touch Ronan's knee when he's driving, like he needs the reassurance too that this isn't a figment of Ronan's imagination, something dreamt up on a whim. Ronan catches himself smiling when Gansey does that thing where he says something without thinking it through and comes across as just another teenage boy, horrified at his mistake, and, well, that smile is enough of a giveaway for Ronan. Ronan thinks Noah knows, but Noah will never say anything. And Blue, Blue is annoyingly perceptive at times, but she doesn't say anything either, just watches and raises her eyebrow at Ronan when he tugs Gansey towards his car. Adam is too wrapped up in his own thoughts to look at Ronan's hand at the waistband of Gansey's chinos.

("You know what you're doing, don't you?" And oh. Maybe Noah _will_ say something.

"Christ, Noah," Ronan yelps -- it's not really a yelp, it's a - a bark of surprise -- and pulls away from Gansey, stepping out of the space between his legs. " _Knock_."

"I'm dead," Noah says, which is his answer for everything.

Gansey's mouth tugs up into a smile. his lips red from kissing. He runs his thumb along his bottom lip, right where Ronan's tongue just was. "What is it, Noah?"

Noah shrugs. "Just thought it'd be good to have some confirmation about this."

"It doesn't -- we don't need to confirm anything." The deliverance is a little disappointing by Gansey's standards. Ronan smirks at the ground. _He_ did that. "It's none of your business."

"It is if you're doing it right in the middle of the warehouse."

"Right. You're right." Gansey nods, slides his eyes to Ronan. Ronan shrugs, he's easy either way on this aside from the fact that he's got a hard on and Gansey's mouth is, well, it's Gansey, he does everything else with it just as well as he talks. But whatever, he doesn't care if they stop right now. "We'll keep it to ourselves if that's what makes you comfortable."

And, yeah, maybe that is what Ronan was holding out for.

“It’s not about me being _uncomfortable_ , man,” Noah shakes his head. He’s looking smudgy again, like someone has drawn him with charcoal and then accidentally brushed their sleeve over his edges. “We just want you to know that you don’t have to sneak around or whatever.”

“Right,” Gansey says again.

“Okay,” Ronan finishes for him. “You’re all supportive of us fucking. Thanks. Is this over now? Because we were in the middle of --”

“Yes,” Noah squeaks, cheeks flushing a dim red. “Go ahead.” And then he disappears, just like that.

“We have to look further along the ley line again,” Ronan says, staring at the spot where Noah just vanished. “Fix him again.”

And Gansey is nodding, his brow dented from thinking, but he’s pulling Ronan back over to him by his t-shirt, cupping his neck. “We’ll look tomorrow,” he murmurs into the space between Ronan’s neck and shoulder. “It’s too late now.”

Their lips press together, soft and easy and familiar, and as Gansey leads Ronan over to the bed where the sheets are rumpled from last night Ronan feels a thrill roll down his back at being the thing, the person, Gansey puts above ley lines and magic and Glendower. It feels a bit like an _i love you, more than a friend now, more than a brother_  without all the baggage those three little words bring and when he smiles down at Gansey stretched out under him, his chest rising and falling quicker and quicker, his smile is soft at the edges when he ducks down to kiss him and that’s enough of a reply.)

He has his mouth on Gansey's cock when the realisation hits him that this is it, isn't it. This is all he wants: holed up in his room with Gansey, a pizza box in the corner and the late afternoon sun straining through the curtains. He presses his tongue to the underside of Gansey's cock, pressing his fingers into the bruises on his hips when Gansey moans brokenly. Fuck Glendower, really.

 


End file.
